Member Poem

These nights quiver
under soundlessness,
hear into its stoniness,
deconstructed whispers
foraging for words that be
torrid; wafting into channels
of unhearing, unsleeping ears,
coming as wispy, white lines
in the sleep of my blank mind,
in a night of frozen starlight
forming rivulets that shape
into a you. I obliterate
wide awake; the spaces
melt into the routine of night -
faltering memories’ embrace.

Previously published at The Word Couch and Whispers